


missing

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:45:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: “Do you know why we might be connected in this way?”“Maybe it’s one of those yearning-for-each-other-across-time-and-space things,” said Jenny. “Very Doctor Who.”





	1. Chapter 1

Jenny got the first call in the middle of a particularly hectic Scooby meeting where more things than usual were going off the rails. Angel and Buffy were getting into a big whispery argument over the ethics of them getting back together again so soon after—Jenny knew how that sentence ended and blocked it out. Willow was arguing loudly with Wesley because she didn’t think that he had _any right_ to come in and start criticizing Ms. Calendar’s methods for no apparent reason, new Watcher or not. Kendra was arguing with Xander because she didn’t _care_ if he’d been close to the old Watcher (Jenny’s heart clenched), she was still a Slayer, and therefore outranked him, so he needed to stop telling her what he thought Slayers should be. Cordelia was snapping at Kendra not to talk to her boyfriend that way.

The phone rang. Jenny, who was standing by the counter and feeling wholly useless, answered it. “Sunnydale High Library,” she said. After two seconds of someone just breathing on the phone, she added irritably, “If this is someone from the Council trying to listen in, tell them that they can fuck right off, because—”

_“Jenny?”_

Jenny dropped the phone. It wasn’t a cordless phone, or it might have hit the floor and brought a dramatic stop to the arguing. As it was, Angel and Buffy barely glanced at her before going back to their relationship drama. “Hey,” she said weakly, trying to get everyone’s attention. “Um.”

Willow’s voice rose to a shriek. “—and for _another thing,_ Mr. I’m-Such-A-Great-Watcher, being a great Watcher doesn’t stop you from _dying_ , and we should know!”

Jenny glanced back down at the phone, which was still hanging on the hook. She leaned down, picking it up with shaking hands. “Hello?” she said in a small voice.

_“Jenny.”_

Jenny hung up the phone as hard as she could. She was too tired and too lonely to deal with that kind of shit.

* * *

 

See—Jenny fell in love. Hard. And then things went really, horribly wrong. The kind of wrong that should stay in horror movies and dramatic television instead of becoming a part of Jenny’s life, because you never want to come home from work to find the guy you love dead on your bed. Never.

She stayed. She stayed, and she worked, and she didn’t fix _everything,_ but Buffy started to trust her again, and Willow gave her small, hesitant smiles in class, and the kids started letting her come with them on patrol again. Nothing was ever really going to be the same, though, which hurt a little more than Jenny wanted to admit.

Kendra liked her, though. That was kind of nice. Apparently, the Council had thought that they “needed the extra support” in Sunnydale and sent Kendra to help, and Kendra seemed to like that Jenny never had any set expectations about her in the same way Willow and Xander did. Jenny thought they might be considering Kendra and Wesley as the Council’s way of showing Buffy she was replaceable. Sometimes she wondered if that really was the case.

Jenny didn’t think about him. She didn’t say his name, and she didn’t think his name, and she never let anyone call her _Jenny_ anymore. She thought she understood why he’d hated informalities. Surnames meant distance. Given names gave a situation intimacy and care.

Jenny didn’t think about him, because if she started thinking about him, she’d start hurting, and then she wouldn’t be functional and the kids wouldn’t need her and she’d spiral into a mess. But it seemed like she was already doing that, because she’d heard his voice on the phone.

He’d said her name. First disbelieving, then soft and shaken, like he was near tears just at hearing her voice.

Jenny didn’t think about that. Jenny wasn’t thinking about him.

There was a quiet knock at her classroom door. Jenny got up and opened it.

“Hey,” said Willow softly. “Sorry if the meeting got too, um, intense. I guess everyone’s just really weird about Wesley being here.”

“Buffy and Angel didn’t seem to be arguing about that,” said Jenny as lightly as she could.

“Oh.” Willow winced. “Well—Angel kind of hit on Buffy. According to Buffy. Angel said he didn’t, and Buffy said he did and that he should know that she can’t be with him, and Angel said of course he knows that but that doesn’t make it any harder, and that was basically the gist of the argument. You know. Standard couple drama.”

Jenny nodded.

“You okay?” Willow asked.

“Yeah,” said Jenny.

Willow hesitated. “I’m glad you stayed,” she said finally. “I—it would have been really hard for us without you here.”

“I’m happy to help,” said Jenny, and turned away from the door.

“Ms. Calendar—”

Jenny turned back.

“You know it’s not just empty words with me, right?” said Willow anxiously. “I—know you’re still hurting. But I don’t think closing yourself off is going to help anything.”

“I’m fine,” said Jenny.

“You cared about Giles,” said Willow, plaintive and sad. Jenny’s heart seized hard in her chest. “We all did. Don’t you want to talk about it? Don’t you think he deserves—”

“I’m _fine,_ ” said Jenny sharply. Her eyes stung with tears. “If you’d just—give me a moment, Willow. I need to work on tomorrow’s lesson plan.”

Willow seemed to recognize that she’d crossed some sort of a line, because she didn’t argue any longer. After giving Jenny one last worried look, she left, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Jenny waited ten seconds before letting her forehead fall forward against the door. She uttered a small, broken sob, then crossed her arms tightly over her chest, holding herself together. “Shit,” she said, voice shaking. She pressed her knuckles to her mouth and stifled another sob.

The phone rang.

“ _Absolutely not,_ ” said Jenny to the phone. She remembered the catch in his voice. “It isn’t him,” she said. “He’s dead. This is—this is some next level ghostly bullshit, and I won’t let myself fall for it again.”

The phone continued to ring.

Okay. It wasn’t a given that it would be him. It wasn’t even that likely that it had been him in the first place, so Jenny should maybe just chill out and answer the phone like a normal computer science teacher, instead of getting all cut up about things that she _would not think about._

The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Why hadn’t the person hung up by now? Jenny breathed out and walked over to the phone, picking it up and holding it to her ear.

 _“—yes, of course,”_ his voice was saying, as though she’d caught him in the middle of a conversation. _“By Monday. No—Buffy, don’t hang up, I’ll expect a more detailed explanation—”_

“Rupert,” said Jenny almost involuntarily.

His voice cut off. “ _Jenny?_ ” he murmured.

There was a long, breathless silence. Jenny almost couldn’t speak. But the room was empty this time, with no risk of her being overheard, so she said, “What are you?”

“ _No—Buffy, not—don’t hang up. I can hear—_ ” His voice was shaking. _“Please. I must make sure—_ ”

“Can you hear me?” Jenny asked, trying to keep her voice sharp and level. She wouldn’t trust whatever this was just because it sounded like him. She was stronger than that.

“ _Yes,_ ” he whispered. _“What—how—”_ He stopped. Then, in a strangely restrained tone of voice, “ _Buffy, I believe there might be some sort of problem with my machine. I—yes, when I make a phone call, I can hear Jenny’s voice…no, I’m not ‘losing it,’ this is some sort of glitch and I need to—”_

“Oh, that’s rich,” said Jenny, forgetting suddenly about the fact that he’d been dead for nearly a year. “Calling _me_ a glitch when _you’re_ the one who keeps on calling my phone? And _then_ getting surprised when I pick up?”

“ _This phone is compromised,_ ” he said. “ _I’ll call you tomorrow._ ”

“Fuck off,” said Jenny irritably.

She heard the dial tone, but then it cut off very abruptly, as though he’d picked the phone up off the hook. There was silence, and then his voice, saying very quietly, “ _If—it is you—I love you._ ”


	2. Chapter 2

Jenny didn’t know why it was happening, or how. She knew it couldn’t possibly be real, or he wouldn’t have told her he loved her so readily. She knew she had to tell the kids, because Buffy especially had a right to know, but she couldn’t tell _anyone_ what he’d said to her. She couldn’t talk about him with them.

Buffy blamed her. That wasn’t anything anyone didn’t know. Buffy was cordial and polite, but she wouldn’t ever stop blaming her for keeping secrets that ended up killing him, indirectly or otherwise.

Jenny thought about this, and then thought that if she kept _this_ secret, maybe Buffy really wouldn’t forgive her. This was a hell of a lot bigger than a covert mission to watch over a vampire. This was a dead man calling her over the phone—that or it was Jenny losing her mind. Either way, it wasn’t something she had a right to keep from the kids. She’d lost the right to keep _anything_ from the kids when he’d died.

She sat down in her desk chair and drew in a breath. “Rupert,” she said, practicing his name. It felt strange and raw. It hadn’t even been a year. “Rupert,” she said again. “I can hear him on the phone.”

“What?”

Jenny looked up. Willow was giving her a wide-eyed, worried look. Sort of an _oh no, Ms. Calendar’s finally gone crazy_ look. Seemed reasonable, given the circumstances. “I need to talk to everyone about this,” she said reluctantly.

“About you hearing Giles through the phone line?” Willow’s voice was high and nervous. “Are you sure—I mean—I don’t know how Buffy’s going to take that.”

“How would Buffy take it if I kept that information from her?” Jenny countered.

Willow bit her lip, clearly reluctant. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I don’t know which is the better option. But are you sure you’re not just—”

“I’m not just imagining it,” said Jenny firmly. “It was him.”

“How do you know?” said Willow hesitantly.

Jenny looked down. She didn’t.

“Look,” said Willow, sitting down next to Jenny and placing a quiet hand on her shoulder. “I think maybe the Hellmouth is messing with that suppressed grief thing you’ve got going. Remember when it turned a girl invisible?”

Jenny looked up at Willow with a surprised frown. “Did it do that?”

“That was—” Willow sniffled. “Back when Giles was alive.”

Jenny thought of his soft voice ( _I love you_ ) and felt her heart clench. “I miss him,” she said, almost involuntarily. It was the first admission of grief she’d made since his death.

Willow scooted her chair closer and rested her head on Jenny’s shoulder. “Do you want to fix this?” she asked. “Make it so you won’t hear him?”

“I don’t know,” said Jenny. Her voice broke. “I just want to know what to do. He always knew what to do, and—”

“And so do you,” said Willow.

Jenny looked at her with tired sadness.

“In the end,” Willow persisted gently, “you always figure it out.” She hesitated, then, “I think you’re right. I think we should talk this over with the rest of the Scoobies.”

“Besides Wesley,” said Jenny decisively.

Willow sniffled again and laughed. “Besides Wesley,” she agreed. Then, “What did he say to you?”

“Who?” Jenny replied evasively.

“Giles.”

Jenny considered her answer carefully. “Not much,” she said. “Mostly just my name. I think he was talking to Buffy during the second phone call.”

Willow jerked her head up, startled. “Buffy?” she repeated.

“I wasn’t really paying much attention to that part, I guess,” said Jenny slowly. “But—”

“But Buffy doesn’t generally talk on the phone with dead people,” Willow finished. “Maybe there’s more to this than just the Hellmouth.”

“What are you saying?” said Jenny with a frown.

“Ms. Calendar,” said Willow, “do you think the connection is two-way?”

“Still not following,” Jenny said pointedly.

“Like, if you tried to call someone, do you think you’d just get Giles instead?” Willow continued thoughtfully.

Jenny blinked. “That seems pretty unlikely.”

“So did Angel getting his soul back,” said Willow. There was a slow, hopeful smile spreading over her face. It made Jenny’s stomach hurt; she didn’t want Willow’s hopes to get crushed. “So did Buffy forgiving you. So did a lot of things.”

“Yeah, but Willow, this is—”

“Just _try,_ ” Willow persisted. “It won’t hurt anything if I’m wrong.”

Jenny considered this, then put in the number for the pizza place. She was feeling like getting some garlic bread anyway. It had been an incredibly stressful day even without the dead guy she’d been in love with calling her and telling her he loved her too.

It rang twice. Then there was a staticky sound, and he said, “ _Xander, I told you this phone is compromised. Please stop calling.”_

“Hey,” said Jenny, nonplussed. “Willow, you were right.” Weirdly, it didn’t hurt as much to hear his voice when she was expecting it.

“You’re squeezing my hand really hard,” said Willow through gritted teeth.

Okay. Maybe Jenny was repressing a little bit.

“ _Stop this,_ ” he said fiercely. “ _Whatever you are, I won’t have you pervert her memory like this._ ”

“What, by calling you?” Jenny was annoyed. “Since when am I perverting my own memory? How would that even work?”

“What’s going on?” Buffy asked, coming into the room.

“ _Shit,_ ” said Jenny. “Buffy, hold on—”

 _“Buffy?_ ” He sounded bemused. “ _What on earth—how can she be with you?_ ”

“How is she with _you?_ ” Jenny volleyed back.

“Ms. Calendar and Giles are having a trans-dimensional phone call!” Willow blurted out a little hysterically.

“That isn’t funny,” said Buffy shortly.

“Not joking!”

“Willow, not _now!_ ” said Jenny desperately. “Rupert—”

“ _Don’t call again._ ” His voice had an air of finality to it.

“I couldn’t look at you when I said I loved you,” said Jenny, talking fast. “And—I took you to monster trucks and some guy almost spilled Gatorade on your suit. And we kissed in a broom closet for five hours one time on a weekday and I missed every single one of my classes. And I _miss_ you, Rupert, _please_ listen to me so we can figure out what’s going on!”

“Oh my god,” said Buffy. “How long has this been going on?”

“I think this is the only time?” said Willow tentatively.

The other end of the line was silent. Jenny waited, heart pounding. She hadn’t talked that much, or that honestly, in a very, very long time.

“Ms. Calendar?” Buffy said sharply.

“Please,” Jenny whispered, holding tightly to the phone. “It’s me.”

 _“Jenny._ ” Rupert’s voice was heavy. _“It wasn’t you last time._ ”

“What—” Jenny began.

Buffy grabbed the phone from her, slamming it down hard on the desk. “You’re keeping secrets from me again?” she demanded. There was more hurt than anger in her voice. “How _could_ you?”

“It was only today!” Jenny tried to grab the phone back. “I _promise,_ Buffy, the first time we connected was during that Scooby meeting! And I was going to tell you—”

“She was!” Willow put in desperately. “Please don’t be mad at her, Buffy, we were just testing a theory I had, okay? It isn’t her fault.”

Buffy blinked hard a few times and scrubbed at her eyes. Jenny realized she was crying. “It’s not _fair,_ ” she said finally, and left the room.

Jenny’s hand hurt from having the phone yanked from it, and it hurt more to close her fingers around the phone again. She lifted it to her ear. “Rupert?”

 _“Jenny.”_ There was so much longing in Rupert’s voice that it made her dizzy. She hadn’t _felt_ this much in a long time.

“I don’t know if—” Willow glanced towards the door Buffy had left open. “I think we need to talk to Buffy.”

“We do,” Jenny agreed. “Hold on.” She took a breath. “I have some stuff I need to handle,” she said to Rupert. “I need you to try calling me back later.”

Rupert laughed ruefully, as though he still wasn’t convinced Jenny was a hoax. Jenny knew the feeling. _“When should I call again?_ ”

“Tomorrow,” said Jenny. “Try from the phone in your apartment. If my hypothesis holds up, any number’ll work. Okay?”

“ _Okay._ ”

Jenny exhaled and hung up the phone.

* * *

“It happened right here,” Jenny said with conviction, “while everyone was arguing. Right here. The phone rang, and I picked it up, and it was Rupert, and I freaked out and left, and then I picked it up again in my classroom, and it was Rupert again, and I _promise_ it hasn’t happened before now. Okay?”  
Buffy pressed her lips together and nodded. “Okay,” she said, her voice small and flat. “I believe you.”

“Good,” said Jenny. “Because we need to figure out why this is happening. And how.”

“So here’s what we know,” said Xander, picking up the crumpled piece of paper torn out of Willow’s notebook. “We’ve got that Ms. Calendar—and _only_ Ms. Calendar, because I tried calling the pizza place and all I got was a guy yelling at me for calling them at three in the morning—is somehow able to reach Giles, and _only_ Giles, through the phone line. We’ve got that nobody else seems to be able to hear Giles—”

“Maybe Ms. Calendar’s just finally lost it,” said Cordelia conversationally.

“I have _not_ ,” said Jenny indignantly.

“Just saying.” Cordelia examined her nails. “Your case doesn’t really hold up, especially when you’ve got nothing to prove it’s not just some weird hallucination thing you’ve got going on.”

“Cordelia does have a point,” said Wesley, sounding quite delighted by this.

“Oh, shut up,” said Buffy irritably. “You just hate Ms. Calendar.”

Jenny blinked, startled. Buffy didn’t usually come to her defense.

“I _do not,_ ” said Wesley indignantly. “I merely think that as a whole, you all set too much store in her opinion. She’s hardly qualified to—”

“Right,” said Buffy. “And you are?”

“I am a _trained Watcher,_ ” said Wesley, “and you treat me like a _nuisance._ ”

Buffy and Willow exchanged a look that reminded Jenny a little of the way they used to smile at each other back when Rupert was alive. Everyone had had an easier time smiling when Rupert was alive, it seemed, though none of them had thought much of it at the time. “Hmm,” said Buffy. “Well, Kendra and I are both trained Slayers, and you treat us like we should be your biggest fans.”

Kendra nodded in agreement.

“Can I go?” inquired Angel.

“ _No, you can’t,_ ” said Buffy very irritably. “This is your problem too, you know.”

“Ms. Calendar finally losing it doesn’t really have much to do with Angel,” said Cordelia. “We all knew it was coming. Does she still carry Giles’s glasses around?”

“ _Hey,_ ” said Jenny. “We’re not going to get anything done if we sit here and bicker all night. We need to figure out what’s up with the phone, or with me, because either way it’s a problem that needs solving.”

“Why?” Wesley inquired.

“What do you mean, _why?_ ” said Jenny thinly. She was barely holding onto her patience.

“Well, Ms. Calendar,” said Wesley coolly, “I feel as though you thoroughly overestimate how much you’re needed here.”

Buffy looked down and didn’t say anything.

Jenny felt a strange pang. “Oh,” she said. “Do elaborate, Wesley.”

“If all you can contribute is a general sense of nostalgia and hallucinations regarding the Watcher you all seem so obsessed with, you’re really no help to any of us,” said Wesley, sounding more than a little bit pleased at the opportunity to finally state his opinion about her. “Willow provides technology support that is more than adequate, and your combat skills are minimal at best. The children like you because the previous Watcher liked you, and because you decided that you wanted to stay. It inspires a certain loyalty in them. But you’re generally useless in most aspects of the supernatural lifestyle, no matter how much you’d like to believe otherwise.”

There was a very long silence. Jenny kept waiting for someone to say something, but no one did. “Cool,” she said finally. “Fine. So this is my problem to deal with, then. By myself.”

“Ms. Calendar—” Willow began.

“Do you want me here?” Jenny directed the question at Buffy.

Buffy looked up. “I’m grateful you stayed,” she said finally. “I’ll always respect you for that.”

Jenny got the message. “Okay,” she said. “That’s—great. Thanks. I’m going to go home.”

“Ms. _Calendar,_ ” said Willow, but Jenny was tired, and she wasn’t willing to stick around for one vote of confidence from someone who had always cared about her. She was never going to be good enough for Buffy. She wasn’t going to wait for the moment when things fell into place and Buffy stopped blaming her for Rupert.

Not that Buffy was all the way wrong to blame her. Which was maybe why the resigned look on Buffy’s face hurt so much.

No one ran after her. Jenny wasn’t sure what to make of that.

* * *

 

Jenny got home and lay down on her couch for a few minutes, but found that she was too sad to really fall asleep. It felt strange, feeling things other than a numb apathy. She had a feeling it might have had something to do with Rupert.

Rupert, who might be a hallucination that she had just left the Scooby Gang for. Fine. Jenny’s life was fucked with or without a dead ex-boyfriend calling her.

She got up and dialed Buffy’s number, even though she wasn’t calling Buffy. It picked up on the second ring.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“I’m tired,” said Jenny. “And I’m sad. And—I want to talk to you.”


	3. Chapter 3

“ _It’s four in the morning,_ ” said Rupert’s bleary voice. “ _Can’t this wait?_ ”

“No,” said Jenny. “I want to talk to you right now. Why are you avoiding me?”

There was a long, exasperated silence. “ _Why am I avoiding the strange, possibly supernatural creature mimicking the woman I love?”_ said Rupert dryly. “ _Heaven only knows._ ”

“What makes you _so_ positive that _I’m_ the phony?” Jenny inquired. “That’s the part I don’t get.”

Rupert was quiet. Then he said, “ _Drusilla—got into my mind._ ”

Jenny felt her stomach twist. This didn’t feel like something her brain would come up with. “What?”

“ _She—wanted information from me, and she found what would make me give it willingly. Lovingly._ ” Rupert’s voice was strained. “ _I won’t let myself hope like that again._ ”

Jenny nodded, forgetting that Rupert couldn’t see her. “Okay,” she said. “Fine. Look, I get that you think I’m some kind of trick. If it makes you feel better to think that—”

“ _It doesn’t._ ”

“—then keep—what?”

“ _I miss you.”_

Jenny breathed out. “Oh.” She meant to laugh, but it came out as a sob. “I miss you too.”

Rupert made a noise that sounded a little like he was trying not to cry too, and then cleared his throat roughly. “ _Right,_ ” he said. “ _What are you calling me about?”_

“I’m just—” Jenny sighed. “I don’t know if Buffy will ever really forgive me,” she said finally. “For letting you die.”

“ _…what?”_

“Where I’m at, you’re dead,” said Jenny. “That isn’t the point.”

“ _No, this is important._ ” Rupert sounded bemused. “ _Where I am,_ you’re _dead.”_

Jenny blinked. “Wait. Seriously?”

“ _Why did you think I was so mistrustful of you?_ ”

Jenny wasn’t sure if she wanted to answer that one.

“ _Wh—oh, Jenny, I didn’t mean—I just—_ ”

“No, it’s okay,” said Jenny tiredly. “I’ve been getting that from a lot of different people lately.”

Rupert was quiet. Slowly, he said, “ _You stayed in Sunnydale after my death, then._ ”

“Yeah,” said Jenny.

“ _Jenny._ ”

“What?”

“ _It—takes a lot of strength to do something like that. I’m sorry you had to go it alone._ ”

“So I’m not a hallucination, then?” quipped Jenny nervously, wanting to change the subject.

“ _The jury’s still out,_ ” said Rupert. There was a soft, affectionate note to his voice. “ _But—I love you. You do know that?_ ”

“I didn’t get to before today,” said Jenny in a small voice. “I—found you. Him.”

“ _What—”_ Rupert stopped. “ _Oh. Oh, good lord.”_

“It’s okay. It was a while ago.” Jenny sunk to the floor with the phone, sitting with her back against the wall. “I’m—I guess you had to go through that too.”

“ _Yes._ ”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _It wasn’t—you, though._ ”

“In a sense, it kinda was.” Jenny sniffled. “I—wanted to call you because it feels like there’s nothing for me here in Sunnydale anymore. I wanted to remember a time when there was.”

“ _I’m sorry I’m not there._ ” Rupert hesitated, then, _“Do you know why we might be connected in this way?_ ”

“Maybe it’s one of those yearning-for-each-other-across-time-and-space things,” said Jenny. “Very Doctor Who.”

Rupert laughed. Then he said, “ _There are things I’d like to tell you._ ”

“Big things?” Jenny asked carefully.

“ _Some pillock stole my parking spot in the faculty lot just because I got into the meeting a bit late,”_ said Rupert. “ _And too many students are using the library this year. It’s unnerving._ ”

Jenny laughed, short and startled. “I broke the coffee machine,” she said, feeling herself really smiling for the first time in a very long while. “Snyder doesn’t know it’s me, but I’m pretty sure he suspects something.”

 _“Buffy punched me in the nose completely by accident last week,”_ said Rupert. _“Utterly mortifying.”_

“I’m pretty sure I got lost in the supermarket last week, but I’m not sure if that was a weird temporal thing or a _me_ thing,” said Jenny.

_“I love you.”_

“I love you _too,_ ” said Jenny. “I missed—so much about you, you know that? Not just the kissing. I missed talking to you, and—it’s been so _lonely._ ”

“ _I know._ ”

“I want to be with you.”

“ _How?_ ” Rupert sounded guarded, but also hesitantly hopeful, and it was that that gave Jenny some hope too.

“I—I don’t know, but—if we can figure out a way to meet, at least? If there’s some way—”

“ _So you don’t think I’m a hallucination either?_ ” Rupert teased.

Jenny made a sound between a laugh and a sob. “The jury’s still out,” she said.

* * *

 

She showed up early in the library the next morning and headed straight to the section on parallel dimensions without a word to anyone there. Buffy looked apprehensive, as though she was expecting some kind of confrontation, but Jenny ignored her.

“You okay?” Buffy asked finally as Jenny loaded up her arms with books.

“Yes,” said Jenny.

“Ms. Calendar, if this is unrelated to Council business, my resources are not to be used—” Wesley began.

“Shut up,” said Buffy acidly.

Jenny looked gratefully up at Buffy without thinking. Seeing that Buffy’s expression was unreadable, she felt a strange twist in her chest and looked back down.

“Hey,” said Willow hesitantly, coming up next to her. “You need help with any of those?”

“No thanks,” said Jenny shortly.

“I—hope you know that _I_ want you here,” said Willow with a gentle emphasis, as though she was trying to remind Jenny without shaming Buffy. “I hope that can be enough.”

Jenny walked down the library steps, setting the books down on the table. The phone rang, and she looked up, eyes wide.

“I’ll get it,” said Wesley, hurrying over before Jenny could do anything. Picking up the phone, he frowned. “Hello?” he said. “Hello?” After waiting a few moments, he hung up. “No answer,” he said. The phone started ringing again.

“That’s for me,” said Jenny, and went to the phone, carefully squeezing past Wesley. “Hey.”

“ _It occurs to me that our libraries will most likely have the same collections in regard to parallel dimensions,”_ said Rupert. “ _Is it possible that you might be able to research on the Internet instead, while I handle studying in the library?_ ”

“God, I love you so much,” said Jenny, forgetting where she was and remembering a second later. She glanced over at a wide-eyed Buffy and winced. “Yeah,” she said awkwardly. “Um, I mean, that would work fine. I’ll get started right now.”

Rupert laughed. Jenny felt a rush of butterflies and realized how much she’d missed hearing his voice. “ _I love you too,_ ” he said. “ _We’ll figure this out, all right? Whatever it is._ ”

Jenny hesitated, then said a bit more quietly, “What was it that made you decide to believe I’m real?”

Buffy dropped a stack of books. Willow hurried to help her pick them up.

 _“Truthfully, I’m not positive,_ ” Rupert admitted. “ _I just think I_ want _to believe it. And—so far, it doesn’t seem like any harm can come from believing.”_

“Fair enough.” Jenny smiled. “Call me if you find anything?”

“ _Certainly,_ ” Rupert agreed.

Jenny hung up, holding onto the phone for a second longer than she really needed to before letting her hand drop.

“What’s up with that?” said Buffy suddenly.

Jenny turned. “What?” she said carefully.

To her surprise, Buffy actually looked a little embarrassed. “I just—” She glanced down, then back up. “I haven’t seen you smile like that since—”

Jenny felt her smile fade. “I have to get to class,” she said.

Buffy shook her head, stepping forward. “I’m—sorry,” she said. “I put you on the spot last night.”

“Buffy,” said Jenny uncertainly.

“I did.”

Jenny shifted, uncomfortable. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Ms. Calendar, when are you going to be all the way direct with me?” asked Buffy.

This wasn’t the sort of question Jenny was expecting to have to answer. “Um,” she said. “I—what do you want from me?”

“I can’t do that,” said Buffy. “You’re better than that. Look—” She breathed out. “I simplified things a lot last year,” she said. “I really want to try and get better at that. But you’re putting this huge distance between us, and it’s hard to trust someone who does that. It just feels a lot like you’re keeping things from me, even when you’re not. I’m not the only one who has to reach out here.”

Jenny couldn’t think of anything to say in return. So much of Buffy’s quiet, guarded behavior now made sense, and she felt a little angry at herself for being so convinced that it came from a place of blame and distrust. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed.

Buffy gave her a tentative half-smile. “It’s fine,” she said carefully. “But maybe we can try for something that’s more than you just showing up and helping?”

“Yeah,” said Jenny. Awkwardly, she added, “I, I do have to go.”

“Okay,” said Buffy. “Think about what I said, though?”

“I will,” said Jenny, and all but ran to her classroom, dialing in a few random numbers and waiting for Rupert to pick up.

“ _What is it?_ ”

Jenny laughed a little tearfully. “I—think things might be good. Or—not as bad, you know?”

 _“That’s…good?_ ” Rupert sounded a bit bemused.

“Yeah.” Jenny sniffled. “Yes. Sorry. Fuck, sorry, I’m sure you’re _super_ busy—”

“ _No,_ ” said Rupert softly. “ _I-it’s been such a long time since I’ve heard your voice. Please don’t ever feel as though you can’t call me._ ”

“Ugh, you’re so sweet.” Jenny laughed again. “It sucks that you’re dead.”

* * *

 

She researched a _lot_ over the next week, but it didn’t really help a lot with anything. All Jenny got were some weird sci-fi sites, a few parallel-universe short stories posted to someone’s blog, and some articles that told her some useful information about the possibility of parallel universes, but not a lot about the possibility of connections between them. So far, she had nothing that might explain why she was getting calls from Rupert, or if it really _was_ him, or if there was any way to tell.

“Ms. Calendar?”

Jenny looked up. Buffy was standing by the door, looking unusually shy. “Hi, Buffy,” she said, startled. “Is there—do you want something?”

“I did a little reading of my own,” said Buffy, putting a book down on Jenny’s desk. “Not much on parallel universes, but I did find a fairy tale that might be of interest.”

“Really?” Jenny smiled. “Wow. So, uh, you’re going on the basis that I’m _not_ going crazy, then.”

“Consider it an olive branch,” said Buffy, opening the book to a bookmarked page. “Here. See?”

An illustration showed a pretty blonde girl with a silver circlet and one of those medieval princess dresses, kneeling by a silver pool. The pool was reflecting a conventionally attractive young man with a golden crown and a charming smile.

“O-kay,” said Jenny. “No offense, Buffy, but I’m not really seeing the connection.”

“I didn’t either,” Buffy replied. “Giles _definitely_ wouldn’t wear a crown that tacky. But my point is that the princess and the prince were separated by time, and it was the strength of their yearning for each other that created a way for them to talk.”

“Wait,” said Jenny. “Seriously?”

Buffy smiled a little. “You guys were gross when you were dating,” she said. “All that bickering. It was like you were making out with words in front of us.” She pointed to the sky in the illustration, which was dotted with stars and a crescent moon. “Willow checked up on the position of the moon and stars,” she continued, “and they match the illustration exactly. Plus, in the story, the princess found the pool ‘on the day the moon was thin,’ and last night was a crescent moon. So that could mean something.”

“Willow’s helping, too?” said Jenny in surprise.

Buffy hesitated. “We all are,” she said finally. “It’s—you’ve been so disconnected ever since Giles—it’s like you weren’t really there after he died.” She shut the book, looking up at Jenny. “It feels like you’re back,” she said. “I know not everything is going to fall back into place when you lose someone like that, but I always wanted to know the lady Giles fell in love with. She seemed pretty cool.”

Jenny felt herself smile without realizing it. “I want to help you guys,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I just don’t always feel like I’m that great at it.”

“You saved Angel,” said Buffy. “You help us every day. That’s _more_ than great, Ms. Calendar, but we need _you_ here. Not just your help.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Buffy smiled a little sadly. “I’m sorry I was so mad at you,” she said. “And for so long. I think it became a habit after a while, but I’m working on it. Kendra says I need to get in tune with my emotions.”

“Kendra?” said Jenny in surprise.

“We talk about things sometimes,” said Buffy, turning a little pink. “She’s—really nice.”

“Okay,” said Jenny, and smiled. “Well. I guess we’d better try to figure this out, then, huh?”

“Willow’s got a few theories,” said Buffy. “You want to head over to the library?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Nice chart,” said Jenny, and pressed her fingers to her mouth, trying to hide her smile.

“I saw that,” said Willow. She exchanged another, happier look with Buffy. “So I did some research, and Buffy bullied Wesley into calling in a few resources, and it turns out that there _are_ a few instances of connections like the one you seem to have with Giles.”

“In the 1720s, there was this Slayer who died and left her little sister behind,” Buffy continued, “and then the little sister started getting letters from her. Everyone thought she was crazy—”

“So we’re still going with the idea that Ms. Calendar might _not_ be crazy?” said Cordelia doubtfully. “Seems dicey.”

“ _Shh,_ ” said Kendra reprovingly.

“— _anyway,_ it turned out that in some weird alternate world, the little sister had died under the exact same circumstances as the Slayer,” Buffy explained, “and the stars were aligned on the days they both died, and a lot of other weird supernatural factors played in and stuff, and basically under a very specific set of conditions, if someone you really love died in the exact same way that you did in a different world, and if you guys both really loved each other in both of those worlds, it’s _possible_ that you two might form some sort of semi-mystical connection.”

“Shouldn’t that happen more often than it does?” Jenny inquired, frowning. “There are infinite parallel worlds.”

“Well, there are, but, um,” Buffy smiled a little sadly, looking down, “one of the conditions is that the two people don’t have any other ways of working through their grief. You missing Giles isn’t what connected you guys—you doing nothing _but_ miss him is what did the trick.”

“Oh,” said Jenny. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the kids thinking of her as so lonely that she could create half of a trans-dimensional connection with a parallel universe, even if it was true in the technical sense. It felt weird to _her,_ thinking of herself that way. Kind of pathetic.

Willow pointed to her chart a little nervously. “What we’re trying to figure out is how to change the connection,” she said. “What might strengthen or weaken it. Whatever you want to do, it won’t work until we understand how the connection works.”

“Do you know what you want to do?” Buffy asked tentatively.

“Well,” said Jenny carefully, “if I could, I’d—I’d like to see him.” She hesitated, thinking, then, “Will you all be able to see him too?”

Willow’s smile faded a little. “Probably not,” she said finally. “The connection’s not that strong—it’s really only between you guys."

Jenny opened her mouth, already halfway to apologizing, when Buffy said firmly, “This isn’t on you, Ms. Calendar. It’s not like you went out looking for a way that only you would be able to see Giles, right?”

“Right,” said Jenny, surprised.

“Then we’re good,” said Buffy, turning to Willow. “Will, what would we need to do to make the connection strong enough for Giles and Ms. Calendar to see each other?”

“I’m not sure.” Willow glanced back at her chart, scanning the names and dates.

“Wesley, call the Council,” Buffy instructed Wesley. “See if maybe they have some kind of ritual that might—”

“No,” said Wesley.

“What?” said Buffy.

“I have let this—this _madness_ go on for long enough,” said Wesley with almost comical authoritativeness. “Buffy, you are to abandon this project, and your friends shall do the same. This is distracting all of us from the importance of nightly patrolling and keeping this town safe.”

“If Ms. Calendar goes crazy and kills you, that definitely won’t count as _keeping this town safe,_ ” commented Xander. “Did you factor that in, or do you just want to remind everyone that you’re the big manly Watcher in the room?”

“Be that as it may—” began Wesley.

“Giles,” said Buffy, “was and is the best Watcher I have ever had, not to mention one of the best _people_ I’ve ever met. I am _not_ letting Ms. Calendar lose the chance to get to talk to him again, whether or not you’re helping us.” She turned to Jenny. “We can do this on our own,” she said. “Without _resources_ or whatever.”

“We don’t have to,” said Jenny slowly.

“What?”

“Hold on.” Jenny hurried over to the phone and dialed Rupert’s apartment, just because it felt more natural to pretend she was calling him and not a mystical connection. He picked up on the third ring. “Hey,” she said. “What do you know about mystical connections? My kids are kickass and they just figured a bunch of stuff out.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Willow was beaming hugely, Buffy was smiling at the floor, and Wesley looked thoroughly angry with everything.

 _“Well,_ ” said Rupert. Jenny could hear the smile in his voice. _“Your kids, then?”_

“ _So_ not the point,” said Jenny, and found that she was grinning. “Listen, Buffy found this fairy tale about a prince and princess who could see each other through a reflection on water, and I think it was Willow who found out about the Slayer in the 1720s?”

“Xander and Kendra, actually,” said Willow proudly.

“Xander and Kendra,” Jenny corrected herself. “Anyway—”

“ _Hey,_ ” said Buffy suddenly. “If the prince and princess can see each other through a reflection, why can’t you and Giles?”

“That’s—a really good idea,” said Jenny.

 _“Did I say something?”_ said Rupert bemusedly.

“No, honey, just stay on the line, okay?” Jenny glanced over at Willow. “I think the intent to communicate might have to do with it, somehow,” she said. “Like—me getting on the phone and trying to call someone always gets rerouted to Rupert, right? Maybe if I try and pull off a communication spell with a mirror, I’ll reach him.”

“ _Brilliant,_ ” said Rupert proudly.

“That’s a really good idea!” said Willow with a grin.

“You still have to have a number to call, though,” said Kendra suddenly.

“What?” said Jenny.

“Well,” Kendra stood up, hurrying over to the phone, “you have to call a number before you reach Giles. You can’t just pick up the phone line and have him right there. If you’re casting a spell, you have to be casting it so that you’re going to contact something in this universe, not in the next.”

“Good call,” said Jenny. “Willow, get two mirrors and the grimoire from Rupert’s old office. Rupert, go—set up a mirror on your end.”

“ _I love you._ ”

Jenny smiled. “I love you too.”

* * *

 

Willow placed the mirrors at opposite ends of the library table and opened the large grimoire before sitting down in front of one of the mirrors. “I’ll let you know what I see!” she said excitedly, carefully drawing the needed sigils on the mirror with permanent marker.

“If everything works out, you shouldn’t be able to see anything,” Jenny reminded her patiently.

“I _know,_ I’m just excited for you,” said Willow happily.

Jenny thought about getting to really see Rupert again and felt herself smiling almost unconsciously. “Yeah,” she said. “Me too. Is there—anything you guys want me to pass along to him?”

“Tell him I love him,” said Buffy, eyes fixed on a point above Jenny’s head. “And tell him to make sure there’s someone there to take good care of him.”

“Will do,” Jenny agreed, facing the mirror. “Willow?”

“All set,” Willow agreed, sliding the grimoire to Jenny across the table.

Jenny turned the pages to the communication spell. It was really pretty simple, especially over such a short range. “Okay,” she said. “Once I draw on the matching sigils, our mirrors should theoretically sync up. You ready?”

“Mostly,” said Willow a little nervously.

Uncapping her permanent marker, Jenny copied the sigils from the book, drawing them each in a designated place on the mirror. There were ten she needed to replicate, each with their own specific meaning in order to connect the two mirrors.

“Does ink work?” said Xander. “Shouldn’t they be using something like blood? Or sparkle dust?”

“It’s more about the sigils _existing_ than what’s used to create them,” Willow explained. “You almost done, Ms. Calendar?”

Jenny was just about to start work on the last sigil when the mirror started to glow. “Wait,” she said, standing up. “That’s not—”

“Yikes!” said Willow in a high voice, jumping away from her mirror, which was beginning to melt. “Do they normally do that?”

In Jenny’s mirror, she could very faintly see the outline of Rupert’s face, which was sporting a slightly worried frown. His eyes met hers and widened. “ _Jenny?_ ” he said.

“Okay, I heard something,” said Willow. “Not, like, really clearly, but I shouldn’t be able to hear _anything_. All the legends say—”

“Ms. Calendar didn’t finish with the last sigil,” Wesley explained smugly. “Something must have gone wrong.”

“Is it possible that maybe you made some sort of portal by accident?” said Buffy uneasily. “Like—you somehow connected directly to Giles’s mirror instead of connecting to Willow’s first?”

“Wrong number,” said Kendra with worry. “Interdimensional portals never go well.”

“Wait,” said Jenny. “That would only work if—” She stopped, then glared. “ _Rupert,_ did you draw on the last sigil?”

“ _Um. One moment._ ” Rupert fumbled with his mirror. “ _Well—I was_ going _to, and then it started glowing.”_

“Great,” said Jenny dryly. “So, how likely is it that an interdimensional portal could cause serious harm?”

Rupert smiled softly at her. “ _Not too likely,_ ” he said. “ _Not if the connection isn’t too strong._ ”

“Giles?” said Buffy in a small voice. “Is that—can you hear him, Willow?”

“Let’s just hypothetically say that the connection might be getting stronger,” said Jenny a little nervously. “What would happen then?”

“ _From my research, these sorts of connections aren’t usually strengthened,_ ” Rupert replied. “ _They’re much like thin bits of string stretching between dimensions. Making the string stronger would pull the dimensions closer until either the dimensions fuse, or_ —”

The mirror began to glow, painfully brightly.

“We have to smash it!” Willow yelled.

“ _No!_ ” shouted Jenny. “We break the connection and I never see him again!”

“Ms. Calendar—”

Jenny scooped up the mirror, holding it tightly to her chest in an effort to protect it from any attacks.

* * *

 

This didn’t go exactly as planned.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a dizzying flash of white light, and then a full-body burning sensation, and then Jenny was on the floor, gasping and still holding tightly to the mirror. “ _Ow,_ ” she said weakly.

“Jenny?”

Jenny looked up. The mirror slipped out of her hands, landing (thankfully) on its frame instead of its front.

“Wow,” said Xander, who was standing next to a dark-haired girl that Jenny had never seen before. “I guess Giles didn’t lose his marbles after all.”

Rupert knelt down next to her, green eyes wide. With a shaking hand, he touched her face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and Jenny couldn’t think of anything to say. Not a word. She’d really be okay if he just looked at her like that for the rest of her life.

Rupert kissed her.

You know, actually, Jenny took that earlier statement back. Touching was definitely better than looking.

“That’s my cue,” Jenny heard Buffy say, loud and nervous. “Come on, guys, we should probably give them some space.”

Rupert kissed her, and kissed her, pulling her close and tangling his hands in her hair. It took Jenny a full ten seconds to realize that she could kiss him back, at which point she did so fiercely that he fell back against the floor.

“Oh—” Jenny pulled back, hands on his chest. “Are you okay?”

Rupert pulled her back in. “Fine,” he murmured against her mouth, “excellent, fine, good.”

Jenny laughed, almost dizzy with happiness. “Did I break you?”

“A bit.” Rupert sat up, Jenny in his lap. He was sparkling, glasses askew, eyes bright and warm and _alive._ “You’re all right,” he whispered, and rested his forehead against hers before kissing her again. “You’re all right.”

Jenny almost started crying. She’d missed him so _much,_ and he was _here,_ and he was holding her so tenderly that she couldn’t think about anything else. All that there was was in the here and now.

The mirror, still lying faceup on the floor next to them, flashed gold. _“Ms. Calendar!_ ” Willow shouted.

Jenny very abruptly remembered what exactly had happened to get her into Rupert’s arms. “Oh boy,” she said weakly. “Um—I think I have to take this.”

Rupert kissed her nose. Oh, god, he was _so_ cute. Jenny leaned in for a last quick kiss, just because she was probably going to have to leave at some point and it was going to be really sad, so—

“ _Ms. Calendar, we can_ hear _you kissing Giles,”_ said Cordelia loudly. “ _This is across worlds. Do you really have to do it that loudly?”_

“Ugh,” said Jenny. “Can I—”

“Of course,” said Rupert without letting go of her.

“You are _so_ unhelpful,” said Jenny without meaning it at all, and kissed him on the cheek before carefully tugging the mirror over to the both of them. “Hey, Willow.”

“ _Are you—oh. Yeah. You seem pretty okay._ ” Willow sounded a little annoyed. “ _We were really worried. We had to erase a sigil on the melty mirror so it would match up with yours—”_

 _“Giles?_ ” Buffy’s voice was very small.

Rupert shifted Jenny in his arms to get a better look at the mirror. “Oh,” he said. “Hello, Buffy.”

Buffy looked at them both for a long time, her expression unreadable. “ _I think you guys’ll be happy,_ ” she said finally, and then rubbed out another sigil on the mirror. It went blank.

“Wait,” said Jenny. “Shit. Wait. _Buffy!_ ”

Rupert blinked. “Is it not supposed to do that?”

“ _I don’t know!_ ” Jenny shook the mirror. “Oh god, what did she _do?_ Why isn’t it working anymore?”

“If she erased a sigil, then the mirrors aren’t connected,” said Rupert a little nervously. “I—I’d ascertain that she severed the connection between your home and mine, though I’m not sure why you’re angry about it.”

“I wanted to _see you!_ ” Jenny shook the mirror again. “She’s not allowed to make the decision for me about whether or not I’m staying. There has to be a way to fix this.”

“Jenny—”

“Don’t tell me there isn’t a way, Rupert. There’s always a way.”

“Jenny—”

“I don’t care _how_ long it takes, Buffy does _not_ get to dictate what world I’m in just because she feels like—”

“ _Jenny,_ ” said Rupert, and stroked her hair. “It’s all right.”

“It’s _not!_ ” Jenny pulled away from him. “You wouldn’t be so calm about the situation if _your_ stupid, reckless decision just cost you all the people you love!”

“They’re all _here,_ ” Rupert persisted, but she could see the reluctant understanding in his eyes.

Jenny breathed out, trying to calm down. “You know it’s not the same,” she said finally.

After Rupert died, Buffy and Jenny had brought flowers to his grave on the same day, and they’d stood in a quiet silence for a good few hours. Buffy hadn’t once lashed out at her during that day, and never had since. Things were broken and weird between them—it was likely that they always would be—but Jenny felt like there might be a chance to really make amends with Buffy now.

And Willow, who had cried _so_ hard at Rupert’s funeral, who hugged Jenny tightly at the end of the school year and made her _pinky swear_ not to die too over the summer. Willow, who had been the first person to coax a half-smile out of Jenny, three months before this whole mess started. How could Jenny possibly leave that Willow behind?

“I have to fix this,” she said finally. “There’s got to be a way to fix this. I don’t know—maybe they don’t want me there now. But the least I can do is try and find a way to talk to them.”

Rupert hesitated. In a small, tired voice, he said, “Then I’ll help you.”

Jenny suddenly imagined how she’d feel if Rupert fell back into her arms and her life and was determined to leave her again. “Hey,” she said softly, moving back towards him. “It might take a while for me to figure things out. We still have a little bit of time.”

Rupert smiled sadly. “I feel as though it was naïve of me to expect you to stay,” he said softly. “Much as I wished it.”

Jenny stroked his cheek. “You’re the best,” she told him. “I missed you.”

Rupert studied her face. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her mouth and back again, and he was just leaning in to kiss her again when—

“Giles!” Willow (a different Willow, Jenny had to remember it was a different Willow) stuck her head into the library. “Buffy wants to know, and I quote, ‘is it safe to come back into the library or are you guys still making out?’”

“Oh.” Rupert sat up, running a hand through Jenny’s hair. Jenny rested her cheek on his shoulder. “No, we’re, we’re done for now. You all can come in.”

“All clear,” Willow called over her shoulder, and hurried over to both of them. “Hi,” she said, and Jenny thought she saw tears in Willow’s eyes. “Ms. Calendar. Hey.”

It occurred to Jenny that the happiness Willow was looking at her with came almost completely from the fact that she had died and (at least in Willow’s estimation) come back whole and alive. She hadn’t earned Willow’s trust in the same way she had back at home—she’d proven her worth with her death.

But then—maybe she _had_ earned Willow’s trust in the same way she had back at home _._ In both of these worlds, Jenny Calendar fought for something she believed in and paid the ultimate price. It was just that in one world, not everyone had known how much what she’d lost had meant to her.

“Ms. Calendar?”

Jenny blinked. “Willow,” she said. “Sorry. How are you?”

Willow knelt down and hugged Jenny very hard, all but pulling her away from Rupert. “It’s so good to see you!” she half-wailed.

“We all thought Giles had totally lost it, but I guess he didn’t,” Jenny heard Cordelia saying.

“Ms. Calendar,” said Xander with an awkward, cheerful smile. “How’s tricks?”

The dark-haired girl that Jenny didn’t know raised a hand and smiled with mild interest. “Hey,” she said. “So you’re the chick Giles has the hots for?”

Rupert cleared his throat loudly and stood up, gently pulling Jenny up with him. “I’d like to clarify a few things,” he said. “This is _not_ our Jenny Calendar, but a Jenny Calendar from a different world. She wants to find a way to communicate with the people in her Sunnydale, as currently it looks like she may be stranded here on a permanent basis. We are going to help her, and—” here he gave Jenny a tired, proud smile, “—it is entirely up to her as to whether or not she chooses to stay with us after that, though she should know she is always welcome here.”

Jenny kissed him. A lot of things were messed up right now, but she still really liked being able to do that.

“So!” said Buffy brightly. “Let’s get cracking.”

“Great to see you, Ms. C,” Oz added with a small smile.

“Wow, way to go, Giles,” said the dark-haired girl, sounding impressed. “How’d you score her?”

“It was the tweed,” said Jenny. It felt strange and wonderful to be here, like she’d slid back into her old life. This Buffy’s eyes were still soft and bright, and this Willow had a sweet, unhesitating smile. Rupert’s arm around her was warm, and if she didn’t think about what she left behind, she could _almost_ pretend that she’d always been here to begin with.

But she didn’t want to do that.

* * *

 

“All right,” said Buffy, tying her hair up and smiling at Faith (who Jenny had just learned was the Slayer that had taken Kendra’s place; _that_ hurt a little to learn) before sliding her world’s grimoire across the table to Jenny. “What’s the sitch, Ms. Calendar?”

“Well, from what I’ve figured, the connection hasn’t actually been severed,” Jenny replied with a small, relieved smile. “Rupert and I sort of accidentally created a _really_ strong interdimensional connection when we messed up with the mirrors. Since both of the mirrors Buffy used for the second connection are from my world, what she did doesn’t erase the fact that they’re still connected. If we can figure out the sigil Buffy erased and erase it too, the sigils on the mirrors will match and I’ll be able to talk to her again.”

“But what happens if we erase the wrong sigil?” Willow asked a little nervously.

Jenny’s smile faded slightly. “Yeah. Then the connection gets cut off completely and permanently and I stay here forever.”

“And that’s a bad thing,” said Buffy a little doubtfully. “Wouldn’t you _want_ to stay in a place with Giles?”

Jenny looked down at the grimoire. “Yes,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice steady and level. “I would. But I can’t leave you and Willow and Xander in a place without him _and_ without me. Not without at least talking to them about it first.”

Buffy’s face softened. “That’s nice of you,” she said.

“But—what makes you think that your Buffy _wants_ you there, if she erased your way of getting back?” Cordelia inquired with a frown.

“Wow,” said Xander dryly. “Tactful, Cordy.”

Jenny thought about how when Buffy— _her_ Buffy—had been asked what she’d want to say to Giles, she’d said _make sure there’s someone there to take good care of him._ “I think she made a decision for everyone but herself,” she said finally. “I know how that feels. Maybe she doesn’t want me back, but I at least want to know whether or not there’s a chance that she does.”

Rupert, who was sitting next to Jenny, placed his hand over hers on the grimoire, and _whoa_ did Jenny suddenly _not_ feel like researching. “Is time of the essence?” he said hesitantly. “It’s possible that time runs differently between our worlds. A-and a day—of you being here—wouldn’t hurt.”

“Uh, Rupert,” said Jenny a little breathlessly, “I’m really trying to be pragmatic here.”

“Am I stopping you?” Rupert lifted her hand off the grimoire, their fingers entwined, and gave her a casually seductive look that wasn’t at all his usual brand of flustered librarian. _Oh god._

“You know what?” said Buffy loudly. “I think I need to get going. Away. From here. So, um, you guys can—research.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” quipped Xander.

Willow’s eyes widened. “I’m with Buffy!” she piped up. “We should—”

“Give Giles and his girlfriend some time to screw?” Faith inquired.

Rupert turned bright pink and dropped Jenny’s hand, which was so adorably familiar that it made Jenny feel warm and incredibly in love. She leaned over and kissed him, which wasn’t exactly the smoothest move when there were a bunch of other people in the room, but Rupert kissed her back with such fervor that she forgot about everyone else.

And then—he was pulling her up and into his arms, knocking her chair to the side as he stood up. Jenny looped her legs around his waist as he kissed her and kissed her, backed her into the wall and she _hoped_ the kids had left by now because what she was about to do to him was definitely not something they’d want to watch—

Rupert pulled back, breathing hard.

“You okay?” Jenny managed.

“We should—” Rupert’s eyes drifted to her mouth, then snapped back up. “My apartment isn’t that far off,” he said finally. “And it’s a bit more comfortable than a library wall.”

“I don’t care,” said Jenny frankly. “Here is good. There takes longer to get to.”

Rupert kissed her very softly, and Jenny thought about how nice it would be to just _be_ with him, sitting in the car while he drove and they talked. “You know—” She kissed him. “I think you might actually have a point.”

“I generally do,” Rupert agreed, kissing her again.

* * *

Jenny woke up with sunlight streaming through the windows and her head pillowed on Rupert’s chest. For a second, she was devastatingly certain she was dreaming, but then the events of the day before came slowly back to her. “ _Oh,_ ” she said, and smiled tiredly.

Rupert rolled over onto his side, one hand tracing her cheek. “Darling,” he said softly.

Jenny didn’t want to leave. She really, really didn’t want to leave this bed and this guy and this world where there was a ready-made place for her, and then she remembered. “Rupert,” she said with sad reluctance, “we have to get on the whole research thing.”

“We have time,” said Rupert a bit nervously. “We have—”

“I can’t use the time I have as a reason not to fix things,” said Jenny, but she didn’t move from Rupert’s arms. “You’re _not_ being helpful,” she added.

Rupert sighed. “I really would _like_ to be of help,” he said finally. “For your sake, if not for mine. But if you’re leaving, then—can we just have one day?”

“We’re still not sure that I’m leaving yet,” said Jenny carefully.

But Rupert smiled very sadly and kissed her, and when he pulled away Jenny already knew what he was going to say. “You care about your children just as much as I do mine,” he said. “However much you wish to stay here, I don’t think you’d ever be able to forget what you left behind. I would never inflict that on you.”

“If they don’t want me—”

“Then you’ll still go back.”

“I stayed behind because I didn’t know what else to do with myself, Rupert,” said Jenny, moving out of his arms and rolling onto her side so that she was facing away from him. “It wasn’t some romantic concept of helping the kids you loved, or even _helping_ at all. Some part of me died with you and it felt like I had nowhere else to go, so I stayed. Maybe I want to stay here instead.”

Rupert was quiet for a while. Then he said, “You never gave yourself enough credit for how fiercely you love, Jenny. I don’t know if you were ever even aware of it.”

“You give me too _much_ credit,” said Jenny, reaching behind her to hold Rupert’s hand. “I don’t know what to _do._ ”

“I think you need to talk to Buffy,” Rupert replied. “I think whatever decision you make will be made when you talk to Buffy.” He tugged gently on her hand, pulling Jenny into his arms and kissing the top of her head. “We’ll have today,” he said. “Today, and then you’ll know what to do.”


	6. Chapter 6

It felt surreal and strange to be back. Almost dreamlike. This Buffy didn’t have the same hard, angry edges as the Buffy Jenny knew, and she smiled a little sadly when Jenny came into the library. “You guys getting started with trying to fix the portal?” she asked.

“We’re—spending the day together,” said Rupert, hand resting on Jenny’s shoulder. “We’ll resume researching tonight.”

Buffy hesitated, then said, “Ms. Calendar, if this doesn’t work out, I hope you know that there’s always a place for you here. With us.”

Jenny thought about all the times she’d taken the easy way out. Kept her mouth shut about Angelus. Waited for everything to fix itself. Staying here, acting like there was no way to fix what had happened, letting herself be happy no matter what the eventual cost would be for the people she loved—that never ended well. Not for anyone. “I know,” she said. “But there’s a place that needs me, and I need to be there if they’ll have me.”

There was a new kind of respect in Buffy’s eyes. “Wow,” she said finally.

“I think she kind of expected you to give in and stay after you finally slept with Giles,” Xander added helpfully from the table.

“ _Xander!_ ” said Buffy reprovingly.

“So you’re telling me that it was all platonic cuddling last night between Giles and Ms. Calendar?” said Xander knowingly.

“Please don’t,” said Rupert in a resigned sort of way.

Jenny laughed, but it hurt a little. She’d missed things like this. “So,” she said, resting her head briefly on Rupert’s shoulder, “what’s the plan for today?”

“I’ll mostly be around the library,” said Rupert, but his voice was very subtly flirtatious. “Standard procedure, I expect.”

“Are you...expecting any students?” Jenny asked casually.

“I have class,” said Buffy in a high voice. “You guys—have fun with your—whatever it is that you’re doing. Just please don’t tell me what it is.” She grabbed Xander’s arm, pulling him with her.

Jenny turned to Rupert, and he kissed her. She wanted to make some kind of joke about the fact that this was all they’d been doing since she returned, but she was too busy kissing him back, so she decided to file that concept away for later.

Rupert was the one to pull back. “There are so many things I want to tell you,” he said softly. “I—missed you so much.”

Jenny smiled a little sadly. Every piece of her wanted to stay with him. “So tell me,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him gently to the library table.

Rupert followed, sitting down in one of the chairs. Jenny pulled herself up onto the table, sitting in front of him with his hands in hers. “Well,” he said. “I managed to avoid having to direct the talent show this year.”

“ _Really,_ ” said Jenny, and kissed him, just because she could.

* * *

 

It wasn’t a very eventful day, nor was it a long one. Rupert had to stay on campus because he was still technically on the clock, but they spent a lot of time kissing and touching and _talking._ He gave her a bunch of his old journals and things that he said the Council would probably have taken away in her universe, and a few books from his personal collection that he thought might be of use to her, and then Jenny finally got to print out all the articles she’d found over the last year that had made her think of him.

“Very funny,” said Rupert dryly, placing _Man Nearly Killed By Book, Saved By His Own Computer_ down on his desk.

“It is,” said Jenny, grinning. “Science always triumphs.”

Rupert grinned back. “You’re quite dreadful,” he informed her. “I believe I forgot about that.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Jenny replied cheerfully. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Rupert’s smile faded. “That it does,” he agreed.

Jenny was suddenly reminded of the fact that, if all went according to plan, she would never get to see Rupert again. “I’ll try and hang onto the bad things about you too,” she said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Not a romanticized version of you in my head.”

Rupert hesitated. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said finally. “I don’t know what part of your death or your life I can hold onto as _bad._ ”

Jenny laughed out loud. When Rupert’s expression didn’t waver, she stopped. “Wait, you’re serious?” she said.

“Is that funny?” Rupert frowned, looking somewhat confused. As though it was clear as day that Jenny had never once been at fault.

Jenny sighed. “Rupert,” she said. “I stayed late at night at school. I told a stranger about what I was doing. I wasn’t nearly as careful as I should have been.”

“Still—”

“ _Still,_ I knew the risks and I took them, disregarding what could and would have happened because I thought Angel’s redemption was worth more than my life.” Jenny bit her lip, letting her hand drop to Rupert’s shoulder. “If nothing else,” she said, “I know that I don’t want you to romanticize the way your Jenny died.”

“Jenny—”

“I’m not a martyr,” said Jenny. “Neither was she. Her death wasn’t an accident, Rupert. She always knew what she was getting into.”

Rupert hesitated. “What do you want me to think of her?” he said finally, quietly.

Jenny smiled slightly. “Whatever you want,” she said. “As long as you don’t think she didn’t do anything wrong.”

Rupert studied her face, then kissed her softly. “That seems reasonable enough,” he murmured.

“Good,” Jenny whispered, kissing him back.

“Giles!” called Buffy’s voice from the library, and Jenny heard the clattering of footsteps. “Is he _here?_ It’s time to start doing the whole research thing!”

Rupert looked at Jenny, his expression pained, and hugged her very tightly. “I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, voice shaking as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Jenny had never once heard him sound like that.

“Giles?” Buffy called again.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Jenny said very softly. It was the first time she’d said it aloud. “I don’t want you to be dead.”

Rupert pulled back and kissed her. “I promise I’ll be safe here,” he told her.

“I want you to be safe _with me,_ ” said Jenny vehemently. She might have been crying.

She wanted Rupert to steer her wrong in that moment. Both of them knew that if he told her then that it wasn’t _too_ wrong to stay, that the children wouldn’t miss her _too_ much, that she should stay in a place where she could love and be loved and be happy, she would give in and stay.

But Rupert had never been that kind of person.

“I know,” he said, hugging her. “I know.”

Jenny uttered a small, broken sob into his shoulder. He was alive here, and he loved her, and she wanted to be _with_ him. The right decision fucking sucked sometimes.

“Gi—oh. Okay.” Buffy backed out of the office. “I think they need a minute,” Jenny heard her say to Willow and Xander.

“No,” said Jenny, and sniffled, looking up at Rupert. “Let’s get started.”

* * *

Jenny sat down in front of the mirror.

“This feels like one of those spy movies,” Xander was saying to Buffy. “You know? Cut the right wire or everything goes to pieces.”

There were seven sigils on the left side, and eight on the right. Jenny was fairly certain that she’d seen Buffy rub out one on the right side of her mirror, so she _could_ always just rub out the lowest one there—

—or maybe Buffy had thought this one through. Buffy seemed to want Jenny to stay out of her universe, anyway, so maybe she’d picked a sigil that Jenny hadn’t even thought of. Maybe she’d picked one of the middle ones on the right side. Maybe she’d picked one on the _left_ side and was banking on Jenny being as muddled as she felt right now. Maybe—

“Maybe you should take a breath,” said Rupert very gently, taking Jenny’s hand (which she appeared to have curled into a fist) and unclenching her fingers.

“This is _serious business,_ ” said Jenny.

“I know,” Rupert agreed. “I’m not disputing that. But your stress won’t change the outcome.”

Oh, god, Jenny was going to miss him so much if she ended up leaving. “Yeah,” she agreed somewhat reluctantly, squeezing his hand. “You—you’re probably right.”  
Rupert raised their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Jenny wanted to start crying again.

“Okay,” said Buffy, who looked the same kind of sad that Jenny felt. “Um—maybe I can help? If it’s other-me that erased the sigil on the other mirror, maybe _this_ me can erase the sigil on _this_ mirror.”

Jenny hesitated. It seemed a little dicey.

“I feel as though it’s the closest we can get to definite,” said Rupert hesitantly, “given that the Buffy from Jenny’s world isn’t here, and the Buffy from our world _is._ ”

“I…guess so,” Jenny agreed finally, scooting her chair over so that Buffy could see the mirror.

Buffy stepped closer, examining the mirror. She looked at the sigils, cocking her head, and then rubbed out one with her thumb.

The mirror sparked and fizzled.

“Is that good?” said Buffy anxiously. “That’s good, right?”

“Um,” said Jenny weakly. “I’m not sure?”

The surface of the mirror glowed golden, and then Jenny saw a different Sunnydale library reflected back at her. Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia were all talking in low, sad voices; Willow looked like she had been crying.

“Do you see them?” Rupert inquired, glancing over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I—” Jenny hesitated. “Look, can I have some privacy?” she said finally to the room. “This might take a while.”

There was a murmur of assent from the children, all of them heading out of the library. Rupert hesitated, then nodded as well. “If—you’re gone—”

“Then this can be our goodbye,” said Jenny with conviction. Rupert nodded crisply, but she could see that he was holding back tears. “Kiss me?” she requested, trying to keep her voice steady.

Rupert obliged, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling back only to kiss her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered. “So much.”

“I love you too,” said Jenny. So much for the whole steady-voice thing.

She wanted to grab him and pull him back the moment he stepped away, but she couldn’t, so she didn’t, turning instead back to the mirror. The girls hadn’t noticed her yet.

“ _Hey,_ ” said Jenny loudly.

Willow jumped. “Ms. _Calendar?_ ” she said tearfully.

Buffy’s face was unreadable.

“Can I talk to Buffy for a second?” Jenny asked, heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what she wanted the outcome of this conversation to be, and that was somehow the scariest part of all this.

Willow sniffled, then nodded. “Can you talk to me next?” she asked timidly. “I—have some stuff I want to say.”

“Of course,” Jenny agreed, and waited until Willow and Cordelia had left the mirror-library before locking eyes with Buffy.

* * *

 

“What do you want?” Buffy inquired somewhat thinly.

Jenny hesitated. “You were open with me before,” she said finally. “What’s changed?”

“Look,” said Buffy, her voice almost too even, “if this is about me breaking the connection, you and Giles _made_ that connection, however accidentally, because you wanted to be with each other. It wouldn’t be right for me to tie you to a world that doesn’t have the guy you love.”

“Buffy, you know that’s not how that works,” said Jenny.

Buffy pressed her lips together. Her eyes were wet.

“There is _no way_ I could live with myself here if I knew I’d left someone who needed me,” said Jenny. “And there’s no way I could live with myself if I decided to stay here based on someone lying about not needing me. Believe me, Buffy, I know what lying looks like.”

Buffy didn’t say anything.

“Please,” said Jenny. She didn’t touch the mirror, not yet sure what it would do. “Please be honest with me.”

“Ms. Calendar,” said Buffy in a small voice, “the last time I saw Giles really smile before he died was when he was smiling at you.”

Jenny opened her mouth, then shut it. She didn’t know what she could possibly say in response to that.

“And—I saw the way you were smiling at him through the mirror,” said Buffy. “I saw how you started smiling after you heard him on the phone. You—I _never_ bothered to think about how hurt you must have been when he died. Not once.”

“That’s okay,” said Jenny firmly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s _not._ ” Buffy shook her head emphatically. “I was—”

“You were grieving,” said Jenny. It felt strange, saying these gentle words when a part of her still felt an angry, unjustified resentment for all those weeks of loneliness and apathy—not at Buffy, not directly, but at the situation as a whole. Maybe that part would never really go away. Maybe the trick was learning to move through it. “You lost your boyfriend and your Watcher in the span of a few weeks, and at _seventeen._ You don’t have to carry my emotional responsibility on your shoulders.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” said Buffy fiercely. “Ms. Calendar, you of all people deserve a chance to be happy. If your love and loneliness can rip apart dimensions, you shouldn’t have to stay in a place that makes you that upset.”

Jenny considered her answer very carefully. Finally, she said, “My loneliness wasn’t because you and the kids weren’t enough for me. I never want you to think that.”

Buffy uttered a small, shaky breath. Jenny wasn’t sure if she was going to say anything in return, but then Buffy replied with visible effort, “Then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you feel so alone?”

It was a pretty personal question, but Jenny _had_ asked for honesty from Buffy, and it would be hypocritical if she wasn’t truthful in return. She breathed out, then said softly, “Because I felt like I couldn’t do anything to help you.”

Buffy looked stunned by this. “I didn’t know—” she began.

Jenny smiled tiredly. “It’s fine,” she said.

“I didn’t know you cared about me,” said Buffy finally. “I always thought—after Giles died, you just pulled back so completely. It was like we weren’t even there.”

Abashed, Jenny looked down. “I’m sorry,” she said, surprised by the words. She hadn’t realized that her disconnected nature after Rupert’s death would affect Buffy _that_ much. “I thought—I’d done enough damage as it was, you know? I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“Well, you did,” said Buffy, an angry sadness in her voice. “I want to get to know you, you know? Giles always used to talk about you and how you always made ketchup smiley faces on your burgers and how there was this one time that you almost set the teachers’ lounge on fire. And you just—I wanted someone to be there, after Giles—you were never there. And you loved him just as much as I did, and you were _never there._ ”

“If I’d known—”

“You never even _tried_ to know.”

“I was hurting too.”

“So now you can go off and forget it ever happened.” Buffy was half-crying. “I thought maybe things had changed when you started looking _at_ us instead of _through_ us, but that’s the way it always works for you, isn’t it?”

Jenny made her decision right then and there. She thought of Rupert one last time, storing the one day she’d had in a wonderful corner of her heart. And then she touched the mirror.

* * *

 

A flash, and a burning sensation, and Jenny toppled over on the floor again, except this time she couldn’t stop crying.

“Oh my god,” Buffy whispered. “Oh god, Ms. Calendar, _no._ ”

She’d wanted to stay _so badly—_

“—you were supposed to be _happy—_ ”

—so badly, and she’d never see him again—

“— _why would you leave for me?_ ” Buffy demanded, half-sobbing, grabbing Jenny’s shoulders. “ _You were going to be happy!_ ”

Jenny pulled Buffy into her arms and hugged her, hard. Buffy started crying, really crying, and hugged her back.

* * *

 

It was many hours later before Jenny finally had the chance to answer Buffy’s question. “It’s not—” She hesitated, thinking. “It wouldn’t be right,” she said finally. “I couldn’t have just up and left you like that.”

“Maybe I don’t need you,” said Buffy. “What happens if it turns out the person you are isn’t someone I like?” But there was a note in her voice that made it very clear that this wasn’t a real question—more a test to see what Jenny would answer.

Jenny tucked a strand of Buffy’s hair behind her ear. “Then I try and become someone who can help you,” she said. “Rupert loved you for a reason.”

A ghost of that old brilliant smile flickered across Buffy’s face. “He loved me?”

“More than anything,” Jenny promised her.

Buffy smiled again. Nodded to herself. “Well,” she said. “Giles always seemed like the type who’d want the people he loved to get along, so—”

“Yeah,” said Jenny, and tucked her arm into Buffy’s. “I have a bunch of stories I think I want to tell you about him.”

“Embarrassing ones?”

“Oh, _definitely,_ ” said Jenny, and in a strange way, _this_ felt a little like old times.

* * *

 

According to a spell on the mirror Jenny did a few weeks later, there were only a few loose threads left connecting her world to Rupert’s. She had a feeling that they would linger for a while, but she didn’t think she needed to worry about them all that much. Buffy was thinking of joining the cheer squad, and Jenny needed to figure out how to help her practice.

She never really got a goodbye phone call from Rupert, but that was okay. She had a feeling that he was probably figuring things out.


End file.
